From Now to Eternity, With Her
by Scotch-Irish Rose
Summary: The king and queen are reunited once more and share some private intimacy, though Fergus reveals he harbors severe guilt over nearly slaying his beloved Elinor. Rated M for sexual/adult situations.


From Now to Eternity, With Her**  
**

_King Fergus is overwhelmed with guilt after nearly slaying his beloved Elinor.  
_

* * *

He had a habit of watching her intently when he was unable to sleep. The flickering glow from the roaring fireplace danced across her delicate features - the arch of her brows, the smooth bridge of her nose, and her luscious lips, begging to be kissed by only him.

Scattered droplets of water from the long-awaited bath she took earlier in the day (after she had been examined in the infirmary, as the king had insisted she be tended to at once) still clung tenaciously to her skin. Or, now that he thought about it, perhaps the moisture on her skin were beads of sweat – the result of the passionate intimacy they shared just minutes before.

He smiled to himself at the thought – the first sight of her body, aching to be touched, the way she revealed herself to him, hastily shedding the towel and allowing it to carelessly fall to the floor. To his joy, she lacked her usual, queenly modesty. Though she was reserved and punctilious outside their bedchamber, she radiated spunk and zest whenever they spent precious time together on their soft, inviting mattress (luckily, they had been fortunate enough to receive another bed since the mishap), showing their love for one another physically and without hesitation.

Now that he had her back, snuggled close to him and tucked under the sheets by his side, safely engulfed in his arms, he was instilled with an immense sense of relief.

Oh, how he adored her. The love he harbored for his queen, his wife, his _Elinor, _was immeasurable.

Her amber eyes glimmered attractively in any source of light, her dark chestnut locks of glossy hair flowed freely in the wind whenever it was down – a look he loved dearly. When she sported her hair draped over her shoulders, trailing down far below them, her personality appeared to coincide; for the duration that her hair was unkempt, yet still smooth and soft, she was relaxed, carefree, and had a playfulness about her that lured the king into seduction, his urges coming to full circle. The only objection he had to this was that her long, flowing strands of hair, when not tied back in braids, concealed her breasts from sight, a savory view the king's wistful blue eyes longed for.

He gently lifted one of her delicate hands, kissing her fingers affectionately. This beautiful hand, he thought, had not long before been an enormous paw; her soft, smooth nails – a menacing set of claws; her gorgeous, adoring smile and straight, perfectly white teeth – razor-sharp fangs; her delicate, dainty nose (which at this moment he kissed lovingly) – a velvet muzzle and moist snout; and perhaps worst of all, her expressive, shimmering, amber eyes – beady and emotionless after the spell had fully consumed her for those several dreadful moments. He had almost lost her to a beastly curse, and this prospect, accompanied by the fact that _he _had nearly slayed her, plagued his mind with unrelenting torture. He assuaged his own qualms by planting another light kiss upon her face, his heart swelling with adoration for her as her nose twitched ever so slightly.

Though his wife had released a soft, fatigued yawn and fallen asleep in his arms soon after their intimate, romantic passion, as she was utterly and thoroughly exhausted after enduring such a harrowing experience, the king himself was wide awake, having no intention of sleeping whatsoever. Having no earthly idea of what time of night it was, he was simply overjoyed to observe his queen as she dreamed.

In his heart, he cherished the love and intimacy they had just shared, though it felt as if it were simply a dream.

She had sighed sensually as he kissed her delicious, creamy skin. She had moaned with pleasure as he nipped at her neck. She had uttered seductively that she loved him (oh, how she_ loved him)_ numerous, plentiful, perhaps _countless _times in her sensual Scottish brogue as they engaged in their affections (slowly and carefully due to the king's inherent fear of causing her pain). She had produced a number of ecstatic sounds as she straddled him with her legs. She had released a euphoric squeal of his name when she reached her climax, which was nothing less than music to his ears.

Despite all these occurrences, he simply wasn't entirely convinced that she was _living. _The idea that she was alive and breathing in his arms seemed too fortunate to be true, and as she began wriggling in his grasp, he embraced her tighter, running his fingers lovingly through her tresses of hair.

She released a nearly inaudible moan as she stirred, and he instantly placed a kiss upon her lips. She giggled delightedly and returned the kiss with what strength she could muster after putting all of her energy into making him the happiest man in the world. He pulled back and caressed her chin, giving a cordial, deep chuckle.

"Hello," she murmured quietly and fondly, gazing into his eyes as she burrowed deeper into his arms.

"Hello, there." he greeted, kissing her forehead. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Did I tire ye out?" he inquired playfully, shaking with laughter as his wife gave him a nudge, muttering under her breath as she herself delighted him with a joyful giggle of her own.

Her tired eyes darted to his torso, where he sported a deep gash, undoubtedly caused by her own claws when she had lost control for several grueling moments. "Oh heavens, Fergus, _what _have I done to ye?" she whispered shakily as she placed a hand gently upon the wound, gazing into his eyes with severe worry.

"Ye've done _nothing_," he replied in an unhesitating manner. May he be struck down at that very moment if he allowed his Elinor to experience any guilt or qualms. "I'm _fine." _Her face suffused with relief, her cheeks becoming rosy as he pressed his nose to hers. "I'm far more worried about you." he continued, taking her hands in his. "Are ye feelin' alright?"

"Oh, I'm just fine, sweetheart," the queen reassured her husband, smiling at him endearingly as he rubbed his forehead against hers. She sighed dreamily before continuing, "Why do ye ask?"

"I was afraid ye might've run the risk of catchin' cold out there, what with just that old tapestry coverin' ye." He lightly touched her cheek with a gentle hand. "Are ye _sure _ye're alright? Ye don't feel woozy or anythin'?"

Elinor beamed wider, leaning in to kiss him upon the lips. She pulled back, whispering, "Ye have absolutely no need to worry, love."

She was appeased as her husband's eyes softened. The queen chuckled as the king pressed his lips to her forehead, and she proceeded to raise her nose into the air, her eyes brightening eagerly.

"Maudie served smoked trout tonight, dear," she marveled, sniffing the scent evidently wafting through the area, though the king was unable to distinguish the smell of fish. She inhaled, sighing contentedly. "It appears I've maintained the nose of a beast, after all." she added, tapping her nose with her index finger and simpering at him with a look that contained unabated love.

"I don't see anythin' but my love's beautiful face." Fergus assured her, planting a light kiss upon her nose. "Ye're not upset that you and I missed supper?" he inquired of his wife, who shook her head affirmatively with a wholehearted chuckle that caused the king's heart to swell with adoration.

"I'd much rather have spent it with my love," she professed, stroking the scruff on her husband's chin. "...and after how ye _performed_ tonight..." she trailed off with a sigh, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. "Such a warm welcome back into the clan, darling. Ye should be part of the welcoming committee for the land of DunBroch."

"'Course, dear! Nothin' less than the best for my darlin' Eli." he boasted gleefully, puffing his chest with pride. Elinor rolled her eyes at her boastful consort, leaning in for another kiss.

"Hush and give me a wee kiss, ye cheeky thing."

* * *

_The baying of Scottish deerhounds filled the cool, night air as the bear cowered before the king, shuddering and gazing up at him with pleading, amber eyes. The sincere orbs showed a feeling of betrayal, a longing to somehow be understood...  
_

* * *

Fergus awoke with a start, breathing heavily as his heart beat quickly and erratically. He felt the mattress squeak as his queen shifted in bed beside him.

"_Fergus?"_ she whispered into the darkness. "Darling, are ye alright?"

Fergus instantly nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "A-aye," he replied breathlessly, "I-I'm..._ alright."_

A pair of lips pressed against his own, and he reached out a hand, running his fingers through Elinor's long hair. The queen pulled back, and Fergus felt her place her head upon his chest, resting it just beneath his chin.

"Ye know ye can tell me anythin'... anythin' at all." she said, yawning softly. "If ye need to talk, don't ye hesitate to speak up. I'm right here."

"Aye, thank ye," he responded quietly, placing his hand upon her back and rubbing it gently. "I-I love ye, Elinor."

"I love _you,_ dear," she whispered with a warmhearted chuckle, and after releasing a contented sigh, she fell silent, evidently having drifted off once more.

The king echoed his queen's sigh, resting his cheek against her chestnut hair. Of_ course _he was alright. Elinor was here, at his side, in his arms. She was safe in their bed with him. He could protect her if something were to happen. He _would _protect her.

He kissed the apex of her head, thankful to simply have her to hold. He quickly drifted off once again, the scent of his wife's locks filling his nose.

* * *

_Fergus showed no mercy towards the creature as he brought the blade of his sword down upon its head, slaying it in the process. He lifted up the weapon and examined it, the once gleaming blade now stained with crimson blood. Cheers erupted from the mob of men, all of them laughing heartily at the dead bear at the king's feet. His beloved daughter rushed to the creature's side, weeping over its lifeless body. The princess pulled its head into her lap; her skirts were soon stained a deep red.  
_

_As the second sunrise momentarily peeked over the horizon, the queen reverted to her human form, and the shocked king gathered his wife's remains in his arms, cradling her lifeless body. _

_He felt as if his heart had been ripped out, his soul crumbling away to nothing. His large, robust form appeared to wither away as he shuddered with vicious sobs. He loosed a bellowing cry of agony, his queen's name echoing and reverberating throughout the lonely, mountainous land..._

* * *

_"No!"_ Fergus screeched, the abrupt, deafening cry awakening Elinor from a deep, dream-thick slumber. She propelled herself back on the bed, scooting away from him.

_"Fergus!"_ she shrieked, trembling at his sudden outburst.

The queen's frightened voice echoed and reverberated throughout the king's ears again and again. Truthfully, he was only half awake, as he was still very much engulfed in his nightmare.

_"_No, Elinor, please... don't leave me! I'm sorry! Oh, my_ darlin' _Eli! _What have I done?!"_ he shouted, tears beginning to threaten.

_The Bear King does _not_ cry! Pull yerself together! _he chastised himself silently in his mind, though the thought of losing his queen was almost too much for him to handle.

"Fergus, Fergus, I'm here! I'm right here, love!_" _the queen assured him, crawling to his side once again.

His head snapped up, and he stared at her maniacally for several seconds before pulling her forcibly into his arms, nearly crushing her in the process.

"Elinor!" he yelped tearfully, and he hugged her in a tight grip, feeling her back heave as she began to sob. He quickly released her from his grasp, leaning back to gaze into her eyes. "Oh, Elinor! Eli, my darlin'! I'm so, _so _sorry! I'm sorry for givin' ye a fright! I'm sorry for... _everythin'_." he said, choking up at the end of his sentence.

"Fergus! Darling, please! Calm yerself! I just want ye to tell me what's ailin' ye!" she exclaimed, hugging him again as tears began to flow. "Don't be sorry. Don't ye _dare _be sorry."

"I almost _killed_ ye, Elinor! I was _so _close to losin' my dearest lass!" Fergus insisted, covering his face with his hands. The tears finally came; Elinor was nothing less than speechless at her husband's emotional state.

"D-dear, ye didn't–"

"If _anythin' _were to happen to ye, I couldn't go on livin' in this world." he interrupted, exhaling and pausing to take a breath. "I'd _never _forgive myself if I harmed ye in any way." he added shakily. "I'd rather _die _than live on this earth without ye for a single day. Not one single day!"

Elinor placed both of her hands upon his dampened cheeks, guiding his lips to hers in an effort to console her husband. She pulled back after a moment, satisfied that his breathing had become increasingly calmed.

He continued in a weak voice, "Wh-when I found yer dress in this room, ripped to pieces, I thought I'd already lost ye. Then, _I _tried to murder ye... t-to avenge yer life... despite _all _of Merida's beggin' for me to listen to her. If I'd just _listened _to her..." He choked out his last string of words, his voice trailing off.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" She immediately felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as she whispered to him, "I'll _always _be right here."

"I nearly slayed my love. I don't deserve to have ye if I can't even keep ye out of harm's way. I'm a monster," he breathed, the passionate kiss he had just received seemingly having had no effect on him.

"Nonsense," Elinor crooned, stroking his curly, rust-colored hair. "Ye're the sweetest, kindest lad I've ever known. I can't stand to see ye like this, love. Ye know I don't tolerate lies from the children, and I certainly won't tolerate them from you." She shook her head and clicked her tongue, feigning disbelief. "I _never_ thought I'd see the day when the king disobeyed his queen!"

Her mouth curved into a smile, and her husband took a deep breath, finally consoled, though tears were still occasionally cascading down his face and falling upon his pillow. The queen was in awe at his tears, as she couldn't recall the last time she witnessed her king cry, or if she had at all for that matter, though she didn't speak further on the subject. She simply continued to gently caress his face, stroking her fingers lightly against his cheek and occasionally toying with his hair.

"I'd be lost without ye, love," he murmured, placing his hand gently on the nape of her neck and bringing her into a hug once again.

"I know ye would," she chuckled in a soft whisper, affectionately kissing his jawline. She leaned back, wiping a stray tear away from her own cheek. "Look at us, both weepin' like this." She managed a slight chuckle, smiling in satisfaction as Fergus cracked a slight grin.

"Aye, like a couple of wee babbies," he replied, kissing her forehead. "I _love_ ye, Elinor... more than I could ever say..."

"Oh, Fergus, I love _you,_" she responded, adding with a demure smile, "Ye've _showed _me just how much ye love me, now haven't ye?"

She went weak at the knees as his lips crashed against hers, resulting in an osculation so passionate and mature that it would easily cause their daughter's stomach to lurch in sheer disgust.


End file.
